


Replanting

by amythis



Series: Botanical Journals [1]
Category: Three's Company
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24681568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amythis/pseuds/amythis
Summary: Recent college graduate Janet Wood moves from Speedway, Indiana to Santa Monica, California, and from her family home to the land of swinging singles, in the summer of 1976.   (This story covers a year and is pre-canon.)
Relationships: Helen Roper/Stanley Roper, Minor Characters - Relationship
Series: Botanical Journals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784473
Comments: 2





	1. June 21, 1976

Monday, June 21, 1976

Dear Diary,

Wow, it's trippy to write that. I never kept a diary growing up, not with two little sisters, a big brother who teased me a lot, and of course two overprotective parents. I love my family dearly but it was hard to keep any secrets from them. Well, not that I've had many secrets to keep, but I do want a separate existence from them.

"Roland, I can see Janet moving out and maybe getting an apartment in even Indianapolis with one or two of her friends now that she's done with college. But why does she want to move all the way out to California?"

"I don't know, Ruth. She's never going to find a good husband in the land of fruits, nuts, and flakes."

OK, no one in this house has much privacy. I know it's wrong to eavesdrop, but they were talking about me and my life. And even though I'm almost 22, I knew it was progress that they would even consider "letting me" move fifteen minutes away, when the whole time I was commuting an hour to Purdue in West Lafayette, they didn't see the point in my not living at home.

"Who would do the cooking?" my then fifteen-year-old sister June had asked when I first suggested it.

"Not Janet," twelve-year-old Jenny cracked.

June, who my twenty-four-year-old brother Jonah calls "Mrs. Cleaver," is truly a '50s throwback, now at nineteen majoring in Home Ec. (At Butler University in Indianapolis, Class of '79, if she bothers to graduate and doesn't end up marrying her high school boyfriend Ricky.) I sometimes call her "Meg," after Meg March, even though she's the middle girl rather than the oldest.

And, yes, our parents gave us all names with J's and N's. I'm sure if there had been more than four, we would've had Jane, Jean, and/or John as well. (Jonah would've been "Joan" if he'd been a girl, so his nickname is "Joanie," in recent years "Joanie Cunningham.")

I'd explained to them that I'm very interested in Californian agriculture, but I guess I can admit here that it is not entirely the legacy of Luther Burbank and others that has drawn me west. (And at that, I've only gotten as far as Missouri so far.) I want the sunshine and the Pacific and the amusement parks and the possible celebrity-spotting. I don't want to spend the rest of my life in Indiana.

My parents let Jonah move out for college, but then he dropped out to become a mechanic. They weren't thrilled about that of course, but he is a boy, the only boy, and the oldest, so he's always had more freedom than me and my sisters. And even he would never dare leave Marion County. No one expected quiet, shy, reliable, little Janet to want to rebel like this. But here I am.

I have to credit my grandmother, who looks like this sweet little old Italian lady but has her own rebellious streak. Nonna said, "Rolly, of course I want great-grandchildren before I die, but Janet is a good girl and you raised her right. Let her have a little fun before she settles down." And she gave me a beautiful little white vase that her own mother brought from the Old Country, as a going-away gift.

"Nonna, I can't take this."

"It's not valuable, well, except for sentimental value."

"I don't mean that. It's just so delicate and fragile."

"So are you, but I think you'll survive just fine."

I gave her a big hug. "Thank you, Nonna."

When we let go, she said, "Besides, I might not live long enough to see you get married, so it's an early wedding gift."

Yeah, she has the family trait of teasing, which she handed down to my father, despite his more serious, worried moments. And she talked him, and my mother, into letting me go. She even bought my ticket, although all she could afford was Greyhound.

It was Jenny who bought me this diary, "for all the things you can't say in your letters." She's a smart cookie, more grown up in some ways than I was at sixteen, and she did skip a grade, so she just finished her junior year at Speedway High. Her nicknames are "Child Prodigy" (or CP for short) and "Mad Genius" (or MG), because she's even more into science than I am.

I majored in Botany, which my mother sees as a "feminine science," balancing out my love of sports (more watching than playing). I do love flowers and other plants, but, yeah, what am I going to do with that degree? In Indiana or California? I guess I could teach. To be honest, I never really planned out a future, and maybe I did hope I'd fall in love by graduation, get married, settle down, make great-grandbabies.

The truth is, I hardly dated in college, and almost not at all in high school. I'm too mousy and shy. My looks are OK I guess. I've got very long, straight dark hair and big brown eyes, like my sisters. I'm now the shortest sibling, since Jenny had a growth spurt recently, so she's 5'5" to my 5'4". I was very flat-chested in my teens and I still have a petite figure. I dress conservatively, a little bit like the Nixon girls, because that's how my mother wants her daughters to look. (My politics are definitely more liberal than my parents' but I keep quiet about that. They don't need to know I'm not going to vote for Ford in my second presidential election.)

Maybe I can reinvent myself in California, be a late bloomer, botanical pun intended. If nothing else, no one knows the Janet Wood of Speedway, which is both scary and liberating.

Anyway, this rest stop is almost over and I need to get back on the bus and continue exploring the world. Oklahoma is up next!


	2. June 22-23, 1976

Tuesday, June 22, 1976

I got into L.A. at five this evening and then caught a cab from the bus station downtown to the YWCA I'd booked a couple days ago. (Nonna let me use her phone, even though it was long distance.) I just couldn't stand the idea of more time on a bus, and the station isn't in the best part of town, so I didn't want to linger. Nothing I saw on my journey southwest prepared me for the noise, dirt, and general wildness of Los Angeles. I mean, Indianopolis is my idea of a big city, and it's got about two million fewer people!

Still, I am eager to start exploring, once I rest up. Not that I'll necessarily get much sleep here. I have to share a room with three other women, and it's not like sleeping near my little sisters. These are complete strangers, down-on-their-luck older women at that. I feel so sorry for them, especially since I know they can't just move back to their families, like I could if I fall on hard times. But that doesn't mean I want to stay here with them longer than I have to.

I have some savings (which I keep in my socks, and I sleep in my socks), but I really don't know if I can apply for an apartment when I'm unemployed. On the other hand, how can I get a job if I don't have a permanent address and phone number? I got a copy of the _Los Angeles Times_ , but I feel overwhelmed by the want ads. L.A. is so big and sprawling, and I'll have to get everywhere by bus, so just planning out where I apply will be tricky.

And then I don't have much experience, and my references are two thousand miles away. Yes, I have a college degree, but as I worried yesterday, I don't know how far that would get me here. I have considered applying to grad school, not necessarily at UCLA, but it's already late June and it might be too late for this Fall. And to be honest, I'd rather take a gap year before going back to school, especially in a whole new environment.

There's a teeny tiny part of me that wants to go into show biz. I know that sounds crazy, considering how shy I am and how I got stage fright in the last school play I did. But I have always loved dancing, and I don't forget my steps like I forget lines. However, I can just imagine my parents' reaction if I told them I wanted to become a professional dancer.

I need to find a nice, solid job, maybe with room for advancement, possibly in sales or clerical work, although I'm an average typist. It's going to be more expensive to live here, and even in Indianapolis I never would've been able to afford a place on my own. I'll have to have a roommate or two, and they won't be school friends, girls I've known for years and grown up with.

I know, yesterday I was excited about trying all these new things, but that was before I was actually starting my new life. I will try to be brave tomorrow, but if I can't confide my doubts in a diary, where can I confide them?

  
  


Wednesday, June 23, 1976

Wow, I have a job! It should not have been that easy but maybe my luck has changed with the move to L.A. I saw an opening for a florist at the Arcade Flower Shop, so I took the bus all the way from downtown to Santa Monica. I figured I'd get an application and maybe fill it out on the spot and turn it in. I'd have to put the YWCA's phone number and hope that they would relay my calls. (On the bright side, I have a great excuse not to call my parents, or for them to call me, especially since it's long distance. I will write to them, but only when I really get settled in.)

I wore my nicest, neatest, cleanest outfit (very Tricia Nixon Cox), although unfortunately I couldn't iron it, or even steam it in the shared bathroom. And traveling on two crowded buses didn't help, but I tried to be optimistic and hope that I still looked presentable when I walked into the shop.

There was a short, chunky middle-aged man in a peach leisure suit and a dark blue Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned to his chest, revealing gold chains. I wondered silently if this was a typical customer, although he looked like he'd wandered in from a singles bar. (Not that I've ever been to a singles bar, but I've seen them on TV and in magazines.) Then he asked, "May I help you?"

Oh, he worked there. Well, he would be an interesting co-worker, but I couldn't afford to be choosy. I said, "Yes, I'm here about the florist position."

He looked me up and down, not too leeringly. "What are you, a college girl?"

Although I'm not fat, I do have chubby cheeks. I actually look younger than June and have since we were both in high school, when she was a very matronly freshman. "I just graduated, from Purdue University, with a bachelor's degree in Botany."

"Where's Purdue? The South?"

Maybe he was thinking of chicken, although Frank Perdue is from Maryland. "No, Indiana."

"Oh," he said, as if he meant "same thing."

I asked myself why I was explaining myself to this man, even if he might be able to put in a word, good or bad, to his boss. With all the dignity I could muster, I said, "Perhaps I should come back when the manager is here."

He chuckled and said, "What if the manager thinks you're over-qualified for what is basically a job selling flowers and household plants?"

"I would tell him, or her, that I love flowers and all plants, not just household, and I can't think of a nobler profession than sharing that love among the public." I blushed immediately after that little speech, because I'd managed to make myself sound like both an idealist and a prostitute.

"It's him," he said, holding out his hand, "and you're hired."

"Wait, you're the boss?"

"Yeah, Barry Compton, owner and proprietor of Arcade Flower Shop, and I could use a college girl who doesn't take any fertilizer but does it in a classy way. You're gonna be great with the customers."

I shook his hand enthusiastically and said, "Gee, thank you, Mr. Compton!"

"You're welcome. One thing though, you gotta lose the clothes."

I let go. "Excuse me?"

"The Julie Nixon Eisenhower look. That might be fine in Indiana, but this is Southern California. And in Santa Monica especially, we're not as uptight. I mean, I'm not sayin' look like a flower child florist, but I dunno, a peasant dress here and there wouldn't hurt you, you know what I'm sayin'?"

"Um, I think so, but I don't have the money to go on a shopping trip right now." Especially not when I still need to find an apartment.

He went over to the till and took out a bill, which he brought over to me. "Consider this an advance."

"Five dollars?"

"Hey, that can go a long way at a thrift store."

"Um, thank you."

"Don't mention it. So what's your number, Sweetheart?"

"Um, I'm actually looking for a place to live."

"Yeah? Well, you can put me down for a reference if you need to."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. See you Monday, bright and early at nine o'clock."

I nodded. "I'll be here."

I'm very excited about the job, although a little nervous. Not so much about my duties, which I'm sure I can manage, but can I manage the manager? I can't tell if he was being flirty or fatherly. I wish I could confide in someone, but I hardly know the women at the YWCA and they've led rougher lives than I have. I definitely can't call my mother, or my little sisters, even if it wasn't long distance. I need a local friend my age, someone who understands Southern California, particularly the men.


	3. June 24-25, 1976

Thursday, June 24, 1976

I pored over the Rooms for Rent and similar in today's paper, but nothing in my price range is both in or close to Santa Monica and has the right set-up. For instance, I obviously can't live with a man, and I'd rather not live with a smoker.

I found myself heading over to UCLA, to explore the campus. I don't know that I'll apply to grad school, and not necessarily there, although the Mildred E. Mathias Botanical Garden is lovely. But it's a possibility.

And then I went over to the bulletin board to see what rentals are available, although Westwood is about half an hour by bus from Santa Monica, and I was hoping to walk to work. I saw an index card that said, _RECENT FEMALE GRAD SEEKS SAME TO SHARE MY FURNISHED TWO-BEDROOM SANTA MONICA APARTMENT, WALKING DISTANCE TO BEACH. $300/MONTH, PLUS UTILITIES. NON-SMOKER PREFERRED._ And then the phone number and address.

I didn't know if she was looking for a UCLA grad or just any female graduate, but I figured it was worth writing down. It was too late to go over there today, factoring in bus schedules and my nervousness about traveling at night until I'm more familiar and comfortable with L.A., but I've scheduled an appointment for tomorrow afternoon at three. I don't know if my good luck will hold but if nothing else, maybe I'll finally go take a look at the Pacific.

  


Friday, June 25, 1976

Wow, I have a place to live! This has been such a lucky week for me. And my new roommate is really nice, but with an edge.

I went to Hacienda Palms Apartment and easily found Apartment 201, on the second floor of course, right off the main staircase. The potential roomie was waiting for me and said, "Ah, right on time." She seemed mildly amused, so I decided not to mention that I was raised to be punctual.

She invited me in and I looked around the tan living room. Tan carpet, tan walls, tan ceiling.

"By the way, I'm Eleanor Garvey."

"Janet Wood." I put out my hand to shake, and she shook it, again looking a little amused. Are my manners too old-fashioned and Midwestern? Well, I'd rather err on the side of too formal than not formal enough.

"I don't remember seeing you around campus, although it's a big campus of course."

"No, I graduated from Purdue, in Indiana."

"Ah, OK. What'd you major in?"

"Botany."

"How nice." Now she definitely looked like she was trying not to laugh.

"What was your major?" I asked defensively.

"Photography. Do you want to see my portfolio?"

"Um, sure." I felt like if I said no, she'd hold it against me, but I was worried that if her photos were terrible I'd have to lie, and I hate lying, even to spare people's feelings.

"Maybe after you move in."

I blinked. "Um, shouldn't I look at the rest of the apartment?" And give you my references, I silently added.

"There's not much to see. The blue bedroom is mine. I've got to check on something in the kitchen but let me know if you have any questions."

I had a bunch, including why she was so casual about a total stranger roaming around her apartment. But I was grateful she trusted me and, if the apartment turned out to have cockroaches or something, I would rather find that out without my potential roommate standing next to me. "Thank you."

She nodded and went through a swinging door off of the living room. I shook my head and went to the closest door, which led to the blue bedroom. It looked clean and neat, so she'd at least tidied up for company. I just poked my head into that room but I went all the way into the other bedroom, whose door was right next to Eleanor's door. It was also neat and clean, with red-and-tan floral wallpaper, which I thought was a good omen. (Although it's not like I majored in pre-med and it was spleens and kidneys on the wallpaper.)

The other door on that side of the apartment led to the bathroom, which had blue-flowered wallpaper, a compromise I guess between Eleanor and her previous roommate, unless it just came with the apartment. Again, neat and clean, which is harder to do with a bathroom than a bedroom. There was a shower/tub combo, which is better than at the Y of course, and I'd be sharing the bathroom with only one person, for the first time in my life.

All that remained was the kitchen. And I could now smell chocolate chip cookies, like Nonna makes. (She of course is wonderful with Italian cooking, but she can also do "American grandma" food, too.) So I had to go in, even if I hadn't wanted to talk to Eleanor about the apartment.

"Want a cookie?" Eleanor held a full tray.

"Yes, thank you."

"Careful, they're fresh out of the oven."

I took one but didn't immediately pop it into my mouth. "They smell wonderful."

"Thank you. Do you cook?"

"No, sorry."

"It's fine. My last roommate, Patty, cooked some but she was less into it than I am. I won't mind doing all the cooking if you move in, as long as you do more of the housework."

"That'd be fine. But don't you want to see my references?"

She chuckled. "Janet, you seem to be fresh out of college, judging by the fact that you look about nineteen. And you went to college in Indiana, so any references you have are long distance, and you know I'm not going to run up my phone bill checking that they're legit. You're nice, clean, bright, and punctual. I assume you have a job locally or else you wouldn't be apartment-hunting."

"Yes, I'm starting at the Arcade Flower Shop next week, but I probably won't be paid for two weeks. I have savings though."

"It's fine. Patty paid through the end of July before she went off and got married."

I realized I now knew more about this Patty girl than I did about Eleanor. Well, I knew Eleanor was a photographer. As for her physical appearance, she's about my build and height but with wavy red hair. 

"Eleanor, I'm flattered that you want me to move in, but we still hardly know each other."

"I'm a good judge of people, Janet. Well, not always men." We both laughed, although I haven't really had much chance to judge men, not with my parents judging almost every man I meet. "Eat your cookie and then we can talk about the rent and utilities."

So I did and it was delicious. And I'm moving in tomorrow! What a week this has been! I am nervous about my job and my new living situation, and I'm sure my parents would think I'm making too many spontaneous decisions, or at least going along with other people's spontaneous decisions. But I want to take risks in L.A., as long as I don't get into any situation that I can't get out of. And, yes, I'll go back to Speedway with my tail between my legs if I have to.

I ended up not going to look at the beach, but soon I can go there every day, so it can wait.


	4. June 26, 1976

Saturday, June 26, 1976

Well, I've moved in with Eleanor. Obviously, it wasn't a hard move, since I just had to take my suitcase over and I haven't yet bought a new wardrobe. And since the place is furnished, I don't have to go out and buy furniture or decorations. Patty had nice taste, so it's not like I want to redecorate. (And maybe there's a part of me that thinks things won't work out and I'll have to move back to Speedway. I might feel different once I settle in.)

It didn't take me long to unpack of course, and then Eleanor showed me her portfolio. She really is a talented photographer. I'm glad I don't have to lie about it. She works freelance, so sometimes she has a windfall she can live off of for awhile and other times she goes through a dry spell. And of course, she's fresh out of college, so she's still building her contacts. That's why she can't afford the apartment on her own. "Plus I like living with someone. I'm the middle of five kids."

I nodded. "I'm the second of four. But I have two little sisters and I'm looking forward to having my own room."

She chuckled. "Yeah, that part is nice. Especially when you have company."

I blushed. "Um, yeah."

"I'm sorry, Janet. You're a virgin, aren't you?"

I'd never had someone ask me that so directly. "Um, yeah. I mean, I try not to judge girls who aren't, but the way I was raised...."

"I understand. I don't sleep around, but when I'm in love with the guy, well...."

"I've never been in love. I've just had crushes."

"You're still really young. And there's no hurry."

I nodded. I know that, but I am a romantic and I do want to fall in love. I don't know if I'd wait until I was married to sleep with someone, but I'd probably wait until I'm engaged.

"Anyway, I promise not to bring anybody home while you're living here."

"Thank you," I said, noticing that she might go home with someone, and that she might think I wasn't going to stick around. And I might not, not because of her but just because this new world might be too overwhelming.

Then we talked about our families and college and music. We have similar tastes, like we both actually prefer the Stones to the Beatles.

"I know Jagger is a pig sometimes, but he's sexy, you know?"

I nodded, blushing. And then I decided that since she was so frank, I could ask her advice about Mr. Compton. I told her about our interaction a few days ago and said, "Was he just being nice? Hiring me on the spot and offering me money for clothes? I mean, it wasn't much money, but still. For all he knew, I could run off with it, and he had no way to contact me."

She smiled. "Janet, you look very trustworthy, whatever clothes you're wearing. Was he coming on to you? Maybe, but I wasn't there so I don't know about his body language and tone of voice. But if he does clearly hit on you, just tell him you're a 'nice girl' and 'you don't fool around.' Someone of his generation will get that and respect it."

"But what if he fires me?"

She sighed. "Unfortunately, since he's the boss and you just started working there, you wouldn't have any recourse, legal or otherwise. But, like I said, we're OK on rent right now and I'm sure you could find a better job now that you have a real address."

"Eleanor, you're wonderful!"

"Awww, pshaw. Even though you're just a few months younger than I am, you remind me of my little sister Elsie and I feel protective of you." (Her parents went with all El names: Elizabeth, Elliot, Eleanor, Elvin, and Elsie.)

"I've always wanted a big sister," I half joked.

"Well, Sis, it's time to go downstairs and meet your honorary aunt and uncle."

"Huh?"

"I told the landlord and landlady that my new roommate was moving in today, and they of course want to meet you."

"Oh?" I said nervously. "Will they want references?"

"The lease is in my name and you're sort of a sublet, so as long as the rent gets paid on time, they won't care."

"Then why are they in such a hurry to meet me?"

"Because they're incredibly nosy."

"Oh!"

"They live directly below this apartment, so don't throw any wild parties, Young Janet."

"No problem."

"Anyway, other than that, they're very nice people, well, she is."

"He isn't?"

"Well, he's more tolerant than Archie Bunker."

None of that made me eager to meet the building's owners, but I knew I might as well get it over with. And better to do it before I made any changes in my wardrobe.

Stanley Roper's wardrobe was bland as could be, but his wife Helen's was, well, colorful. She has hair as red as Eleanor's but big and curly, yet that doesn't stop her from wearing big, loud muumuus. Today's is hot pink and lime green, but Eleanor told me later that there are many others, equally blinding. And Mrs. Roper accessorizes with costume jewelry: rings, necklaces, chokers, earrings, maybe etc.

The couple's personalities are as different as their appearances. He is grouchy and sour and kind of mumbly. She is chatty and exuberant. She wanted to hear all about me, so I told her what I hoped would make me sound like a good, reliable tenant, while she seemed disappointed that I haven't left a string of broken hearts back in Speedway.

"Eleanor, you'll have to take her to the Regal Beagle."

"A nice kid like Janet doesn't wanna go to that pick-up bar."

"Don't listen to Stanley. It's a nice neighborhood pub, like they have in England."

"Um, I have to finish unpacking," I said, although I didn't. (See, sometimes I have to lie, but I don't do it well.)

"And I have to work on some shots I took this week," Eleanor said.

"Well, let me know what develops," Mrs. Roper teased.

When we got upstairs, I told Eleanor I was going to take a nap before dinner, not a white lie because I am going to rest up now that I've updated you.


	5. June 27, 1976

Sunday, June 27, 1976

Eleanor and I did end up going to the Regal Beagle last night. I wasn't that hungry when I woke up, and she said that they serve pub food, so I figured I might as well check it out. "The Beagle," as regulars call it, is just a few blocks away so we walked over. (Eleanor doesn't have a car either, but she's good at getting around on the buses, or walking sometimes.)

I'd pictured something darker and sleazier, but it honestly is just a nice little bar-restaurant. I don't know how "authentic" it is, since I've obviously never been to England, but they serve just nice simple food. Eleanor and I got sandwiches and "chips" (French fries but thicker and better). She ordered a beer but I just got lemonade, even though that definitely didn't seem English.

"You don't drink?" she asked after the buxom waitress took our order.

I shrugged. "Not really." It's partly that I don't like losing control and partly that I look so young that I know I would be carded every time. Yes, I suppose I could drink at parties, but I never went to parties in Indiana where I could drink. Mostly, I was never invited, but even when I was, I knew my parents would never approve. And living at home, well, their approval was not only important but necessary. It occurs to me now that I could drink and do all kinds of things that they'd never know about. Not that I plan to go wild out here, but I can see why that might've been a factor in my parents not wanting me to leave. Still, they trusted me enough to let me go, and their trust is important.

On the other hand, I like knowing that if I want to experiment a little, this is a good place for it. But I didn't see a point in ordering a beer, at least not last night.

"Good for you," Eleanor said and left it at that.

We talked about what kind of food we like and Eleanor said we could go grocery shopping today. She of course knows all the markets nearby.

"What about thrift stores?"

"Oh, for your new wardrobe? Why don't you just wear some of my clothes next week? We're about the same size, and then if you get fired, you won't have to worry about Mr. Compton asking for his five bucks back."

"You think I will get fired?"

"I'm mostly joking, Janet. But you can borrow a few outfits if you like."

"Thank you," I said quietly.

We were eating the not bad food when a man who looked like he could Mr. Compton's son or nephew strode in. His body was taller and thinner, his dark hair longer and thicker, but he looked like he goes to the same clothing and jewelry stores as my new boss. He might've been cute in regular clothes, but it seemed like he was trying too hard. He ogled the waitress and then spotted our table. He slinked (slunk?) over.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Eleanor Garvey, the natural redhead."

I blushed on her behalf, although she set down her sandwich and said, "Well, well, well, if it isn't Larry Dallas, the natural jerk."

"Cute. And speaking of cute, who's your friend?"

Eleanor sighed and reluctantly said, "Janet, meet Larry."

I held out my hand to shake, but he took it and kissed it. "Enchanté. Janet...?"

"Wood."

"Would what?"

I've been hearing that kind of joke for years, including from Jonah's creepy friend Oscar. But I just said, "W-O-O-D."

"Do you want a refill on your lemonade?" the waitress asked me.

"Yes, please."

She nodded and went back to the bar, and Larry suddenly yanked his hand away. "Sorry, wrong table," he mumbled and headed over to two blondes in the one booth.

"What was that about?" I whispered to Eleanor, who looked very amused.

She whispered back, "He just figured out you're not his type."

"But he was hitting on me! Wasn't he?"

"That was Larry doing preliminary investigations. He might've been scared off by the 'Nixon girls' look but you are really cute and he probably figured it wouldn't matter once he got you naked." Now I really blushed, but she continued, "But that combined with you not responding to his innuendo, and you not drinking, plus maybe how young you look, although that can go either way with Larry depending on his mood, he must've pieced together that you're a virgin, and not in any hurry to change that. Larry's just out to get laid but there's only so much effort he'll put into it."

I felt angry and humiliated, being assessed like that when I was just trying to eat a meal in public, and I honestly wasn't looking to be picked up. I was glad we hadn't ordered more food, because I was now in a hurry to get out of there, even if Larry had already forgotten about us.

Eleanor must've guessed how I felt, because she went over to the bar and cancelled my refill of lemonade. And we got takeout boxes for our sandwiches.

We finished dinner at home, at the kitchen table. I was still fuming, so I vented, "What gives guys the right to judge us like that?"

"It's how a lot of them are. And we do it, too, sometimes, just more subtly."

"I would never judge a man like that!"

"Oh, no? I saw you checking out Larry when he came in, his clothes and his body."

I blushed yet again. "But not like that."

"I know, but it's human nature, and Mother Nature, looking for the right mate. Larry just happens to be more obnoxious about it."

I nodded and then dared ask, "What did he mean about you being 'a natural redhead'?"

She laughed unself-consciously. "Oh, a couple years ago I was going through a hippie phase, which is why I have some clothes to loan you for the flower shop. Anyway, I stopped shaving under my arms, although I still shaved my legs. And Larry was ogling me at the beach one day and...."

"Ah."

"I think he couldn't decide if it meant I'm earthy like a European woman or I'm a feminist and possibly a lesbian. When I'm an earthy, feminist heterosexual."

I laughed and then I said, "Wait, did he think I'm your, um, girlfriend?"

She shrugged. "Knowing Larry, that would probably be a turn-on."

I laughed again, although part of me can't believe I'm having such frank discussions with an almost stranger. But it already feels like I've known Eleanor for years.

We did go grocery shopping today and it did feel different than the times that I've gone with my mother. For the first time in my life, I'm living with an equal, even if Eleanor is big-sisterly, too.

And we went to the beach at sunset tonight. It was just lovely, the sky, the sea, the sand. And I couldn't help it, I wished I had a boyfriend by my side to share such a romantic view. Still, having a good friend to share nice moments is something in itself.


	6. June 28 to July 5, 1976

Monday, June 28, 1976

Well, I went to work today and the first thing Mr. Compton said was, "Now that's more like it."

He could only have been referring to my outfit, which I indeed borrowed from Eleanor. I chose a white peasant blouse with long, billowy sleeves and a scoop-neck (but not low-cut), along with a long, billowy peasant skirt that has an intricate red, black, and white design. Oh, and platform sandals. My clothes were casual but not sloppy, freer than I'm used to, without being revealing.

I cleared my throat and was grateful for the extra couple inches over my normal height. "Mr. Compton, I want you to know I'm a nice girl."

"Of course. I try not to hire mean people."

"No," I said blushing, "I mean I don't fool around."

He chuckled. "Sweetheart, no offense, but you're not my type."

Unlike with Larry, I didn't want to know why. I felt relieved and embarrassed. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, no longer able to stand up for myself, and feeling guilty that I'd misunderstood his kindness.

"Forget about it. You're obviously a small-town girl tryin' to figure out the big city. Why don't you fill out the paperwork and then I'll explain the cash register?"

I nodded and followed him over to a little table with vases, a pen, and forms on it. I took a deep breath so my hands wouldn't shake and cause the vases to break. I sat down and hoped that Mr. Compton wouldn't look over my shoulder. But he went around the store watering the plants.

I skimmed through the forms before filling them out. I didn't see anything I needed to worry about, although the salary isn't great. I'll make enough to get by, but I know I'll never be able to afford a car on this salary, even an old heap like Jonah got when he was seventeen and working at McDonald's. It's fine though. I think everything I need is in walking distance, and I can take the bus on weekends.

Or hypothetically, I'll date men with cars. Not that that would be my only criteria of course, and not that I'll start dating immediately. I want to learn to really be independent. With Eleanor's help, ha ha.

  


Friday, July 2, 1976

Although this week has been busier than last week, it's been less dramatically eventful. This is the first time, even counting past summer jobs, that I've worked a forty-hour week, and I mostly feel exhausted. Just standing on my feet that much (I've switched to flat sandals now) is draining.

But I love it. Although part of me would like to be a botanist in a lab, creating hybrids and just generally learning even more about plants, it feels good to share plants with ordinary people. And I feel like every sale has a little story that goes with it, whether or not the customers tell me. First dates and anniversaries, weddings and promotions, births and deaths, or just people trying to make their homes more homey. Sometimes people come in with very specific requests in mind, and might be testy if we don't have that plant in stock, while others are eager for suggestions. And sometimes I get to be artistic in my flower-arranging, expressing my love of beauty and creativity.

Mr. Compton seems happy with my work and he trusts me enough to leave me in the shop alone sometimes. The awkwardness of Monday is behind us and I hope to stay in this job for at least a year.

Still, I'm glad I have this coming Monday off because of the holiday weekend. And, yes, I have made up a lot of red-white-and-blue arrangements this week. (Blue flowers are a challenge, but we did have lots of delphiniums, cornflowers, and, my favorite, love-in-a-mist in stock. I made a note to Mr. Compton to reorder when we ran out.)

  


Monday, July 5, 1976

Eleanor and I watched the fireworks on the beach last night, an amazing spectacle, better than anything I ever saw in Speedway. And some people were in costume, mostly for the Bicentennial, but also just random things like Cleopatra and the Wolfman. There was even a live band, playing before, during, and after the fireworks, although we couldn't really hear them during of course. I felt a little shy at first, but Eleanor encouraged me to get out on the dance floor, well, the sand. I mostly danced next to her but sometimes guys would come over and we'd partner-dance for awhile. None of my partners stayed for long, but I did see Eleanor take a guy's phone number.

When we got home, she shrugged and said, "Well, he was cute."

He was a big, burly guy with a brown beard, not my type, since I like more boyish men, and usually not facial hair. But I could kind of see how she might be attracted to him, and I still don't really know her that well. They didn't have much of a conversation, not with all the noise, but he wrote his first name, Ted, on the napkin he handed her.

"Are you going to call him?"

"I might. He's a good dancer." He was, surprisingly light on his feet.

"Um, how does that work?"

"Dancing or phoning?"

I rolled my eyes and then sighed. "I mean, I was raised to believe that women shouldn't call men, and even though I don't agree with that, I never have."

"Well, he wouldn't have given me his number if he didn't want me to call. And all I have to do is call him if and when I want to. We'll chat, I'll see what I think of his voice, his sense of humor if any, his intelligence, ditto, and then if I'm interested enough, I'll suggest we meet for drinks at the Regal Beagle."

"So you would ask him out, not wait for him to ask you?"

She chuckled and said, "I have much to teach you, Young Grasshopper."

I ignored the _Kung Fu_ joke and said, "I'm just trying to understand how this all works."

She nodded. "Well, if I pick the time and place, which would be a public place at a not too late time of the day, then that gives me some control of the situation. He wouldn't pick me up here, so he wouldn't know where I live, and I wouldn't have to get into a car with him until I'm ready."

"But it's a bar."

"It's a pub and I don't have to drink anything alcoholic. Besides, you'll be there."

"Me?"

"Yes, Patty and I used to do that for each other, and I was hoping you and I could as well."

"Do what? Chaperone?"

"Not exactly. You'd sit at another table and just watch to make sure everything seemed to be going OK. And it wouldn't be for every date, just this first getting-acquainted meet-up."

"Well, OK, but I'm putting what I order on your tab."

She laughed and said, "You catch on quick, Kid."

We've eaten there a few times since I moved to the neighborhood, but I prefer Eleanor's home-cooking, when she has time. She's an interesting cook, in that she doesn't carefully follow recipes like my mother or June. She does "a pinch of this and a dash of that," seeming to make it up on the spot, but her food is always tasty, breakfast, lunch, or dinner. So I don't mind doing the dishes after, or some of the other housekeeping.

Yes, there are times I miss my mother's reliable, I guess predictable cooking, and my family in general. I really need to call them soon. I have written them a letter about my apartment, roommate, and job, but I haven't included my phone number. I guess in this case, I prefer calling first.


	7. July 6 to September 23, 1976

Tuesday, July 6, 1976

I got a letter from my mother. I didn't expect to hear back from her so soon, especially with the holiday, but it sounds like she sat down and wrote her reply immediately. She's fine, everyone's fine. She still sounds worried about me but relieved that things have worked out so well for me. I didn't say anything in my letter about the little bumps along the way and I did my best to sound upbeat. And, really, I am much luckier than I could've been.

  


Saturday, July 10, 1976

It was nice to have that shorter four-day week but I think I'll be OK doing another forty hours next week. I'm tired when I come home but there's always the weekend to look forward to.

Except that I had to go out tonight and I wasn't really looking forward to it. I had to not-chaperone for Eleanor. I mean, I promised I would, and I guess if I ever get asked out, she can return the favor, but I felt awkward about it.

It was OK. Teddy didn't seem to be a creep and Eleanor looked comfortable with him. So I headed home after I finished eating dinner. (Yes, it went on her tab.)

I'm happy for her of course, but I think I'll miss our sisterly hanging out if this gets serious. I know, they just started seeing each other and I'm getting ahead of myself, but when Ricky first came over for a dinner June cooked, we thought at first it was just for the food.

  


Saturday, July 31, 1976  


I gave Eleanor my share of the rent today. My father teased in his last letter about my "career," but I am proud that I can support myself, however simply. I think I might keep working even after I get married, although I might take a break to have children.

Not that that's going to happen any time soon. I have actually been on a few first dates since I last updated you, but nothing to write home about and not much to tell even you. They were friends of Ted, who does look like he's going to be around awhile. He doesn't talk much in front of me, but Eleanor says he's just shy. She also calls him a "big ol' teddy bear," and, yes, she nicknames him Teddy. It's both sweet and sickening.

Or maybe I'm just jealous that she's found someone and I haven't had any luck. Then again, I haven't been in California that long and I'm still settling in in some ways.

And Eleanor and I still hang out, just less.

  


Wednesday, August 18, 1976

Well, after a close battle with Governor Reagan, President Ford won the nomination at the Republican Convention. For a change, the Democratic Convention last month was much less dramatic. I plan to vote for Governor Carter in November, although I of course am not going to tell my parents that.

My Friday the 13th birthday, by the way, passed quietly, although Eleanor baked a cake and Mrs. Roper bought me flowers, from me, but it was still thoughtful. My parents sent a check, which was very helpful, if impersonal.

  


Monday, September 6, 1976

I have today off because it's the ironically named Labor Day, my first as a working girl, sorry, working woman. I still don't think of myself as a woman, I must admit. It's not just that I'm so inexperienced with men. (I've gone on a few more forgettable dates.) I feel like I'm still waiting for my life to begin. Don't get me wrong. I've gone through some changes since moving to California but nothing really huge, ultimately. I mean, I'm not the same sheltered girl I was in Indiana, but really, there are girls, women, my age, like Eleanor, who have seen more of life than I have.

I suppose I should take more chances, but I don't want to just for the sake of taking chances. And at the same time, I feel like being reliable and dependable is my strength and makes me more mature than people just out to have a good time.

  


Wednesday, September 22, 1976

The first day of Fall, but that's not why I'm staying home. I did go in to work in the morning, but I started sneezing. I doubt it's allergies because I've never been allergic to plants before, and I think I would know by now if I were. It's probably just a little cold. Mr. Compton sent me home and even offered to drive me, but it's not that bad a walk.

I'm just going to try to nap and drink plenty of fluids. When Eleanor gets home from her shoot, I'll ask her to make me some soup, but I'm not hungry right now.

  


Thursday, September 23, 1976

God, I still can't believe what happened yesterday! I couldn't write about it at the time because I didn't know what to say, but I guess I should, in the interest of completeness. And it is admittedly the most interesting thing to happen in my quiet life in weeks.

I woke to the sound of two voices, Eleanor's and a deeper voice that it took me a moment to place as Ted's.

"Come on in."

"What about your roommate?"

"Janet won't be home from work for hours."

I know I should've have spoken up but I was groggy from cold medicine and my throat was dry. And I felt like I couldn't stand up, let alone go to the door. I figured that even if they made out in the living room, I could just ignore it and maybe get back to sleep.

Unfortunately, they went into Eleanor's bedroom and did a lot more than make out. I don't think they were loud enough for the Ropers to hear downstairs, since Mr. Roper probably would've evicted her, and Mrs. Roper probably would've wanted to hear all the details of the encounter. It's not that no one in the building has sex (although Mrs. Roper implies that she and her husband rarely do), but there is a pretense that this is a "decent building" and so those who are sexually active have to be discreet about it. 

This isn't a problem for me, since I've barely even kissed in California. And I figure what two consenting adults do in the privacy of the home of either or both is their own business. The problem is, Eleanor had a lot less privacy than she realized.

I felt embarrassed for her sake and my own. And (even more embarrassing) I felt a little turned on, not by them so much as what they were doing. I've never even heard my parents make love, let alone anyone my age. It's still not really something I can imagine doing myself, since there's no one I've ever been that attracted to or in love with. But I know that will change someday.

Anyway, I was dreading having to face the two of them right after, as I thought I'd have to. But afterwards, she said, "You should probably go before the Ropers recognize your car and wonder what you're doing here in the middle of the day."

He didn't argue but instead said, "OK, Babe, see you later."

I was trying to make up my mind whether to confront her, when I heard her door open. I half expected her to knock and say, "I know you're in there, Janet." Instead, a minute later I heard the shower running. Then I thought she'd knock after she was dressed again, but instead a few minutes later I heard the front door open and shut.

I carefully got out of bed and cautiously made my way to the bathroom. I had to pee (all those fluids!) and I guess I was looking for evidence of birth control, although Eleanor and I have never talked about that. I have to hope she's being careful in that regard, since it's not something I feel comfortable bringing up.

Then I went back to bed, thought about writing in you, and somehow fell asleep again.

I woke to the sound of a knock at my door. "Janet, are you in there?"

"Um, yes, I have a cold."

"Oh, you poor thing! I'll make you some soup."

She didn't seem suspicious then or later that I'd overheard her and Ted. I've decided not to bring it up until and unless she does.

I stayed home from work again today, and Eleanor stuck around to take care of me, so we certainly had opportunities to talk about it. But maybe she's waiting until I'm well.

In any case, I'm starting to feel better and I think I will go in to work tomorrow, rather than wait until Monday. I like time off, but not when I'm too sick to really enjoy it, and I have this secret hanging over me.


	8. October 11 to November 25, 1976

Monday, October 11, 1976

It's Columbus Day but Mr. Compton decided not to close the flower shop. "I know you're part Italian," he said, since I'd mentioned it once or twice, "but you don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," I said, not explaining that Christopher Columbus is hardly my favorite Italian in history. (I think it'd be amazing if we celebrated Leonardo Da Vinci's birthday. Well, my family does because Jonah was born on the five-hundredth anniversary, April 15, 1952. In fact, his middle name is Leonardo. But of course it's also Tax Day in America, so I can't see the larger culture going for it.)

We did pretty good business for a Monday, since enough people did have the day off, although most of the orders had nothing to do with the holiday.

  


Monday, October 25, 1976

We are closed for Veterans Day, which was moved from November 11th to the fourth Monday in October a few years back. But Mr. Compton had me come in on Saturday since there were understandably a lot of orders to fill. So it's still a two-day weekend for me. But I did have time to work on my Halloween costume for a party on Saturday. (No one wanted to throw a party on a Sunday.) Eleanor and Ted are dressing as Fred and Wilma Flintstone. She offered to fix me up but I decided I'd rather go "stag," so I'm going as Jackie Kennedy Onassis, with my real hair pinned up and a shorter more bouffantish black wig over that. And sunglasses of course. I'm not really tall enough but I am thin and small-chested enough and it's been fun looking in thrift stores to find something elegant-looking enough to pass at a Halloween party with dim lighting and drunk guests.

  


Sunday, October 31, 1976

Oh God, last night was a disaster! No, the costumes were fine and I even got some compliments (drunk and sober) and was treated with respect, although Jackie O is a more controversial figure than she was fifteen years ago. Anyway, Eleanor and Ted had a big, ugly argument and we had to find someone sober enough to drive us home, since it was too late to take the bus and she didn't want to in her Wilma costume. (We couldn't afford a cab of course. Well, we could I guess, but we didn't have that much on us.)

She doesn't think they'll make up and I'm not exactly urging her to. Then again, I don't want to say anything too bad about him, because I remember when June would have (milder) arguments with Ricky and then they'd make up and she would remember anything negative I said about him to comfort her.

  


Wednesday, November 3, 1976

Carter won! I'm so happy! But obviously I'm going to hide my enthusiasm when I call or write to my parents.

Eleanor is less joyous, but she's been moody and cranky for weeks, even before the breakup with Ted.

  


Thursday, November 25, 1976

Oh God! What a Thanksgiving!

The food was fine, very good actually. Eleanor went all out in the sense of every dish you could imagine, half joking that she had spent our entire December grocery budget. We'll obviously be eating leftovers for awhile.

I called my family while she was making the meal. I do miss them and I sort of wish I could've gone home for Thanksgiving, but there were so many questions and so much nagging, I'm kind of glad I didn't. And, yes, my parents are pressuring me to go home for Christmas. I gave a firm maybe. I'd have to ask Mr. Compton for extra time off, simply to get to and from Indiana, probably by bus.

The thing is, well, I'm not so sure I should leave Eleanor for that long, under the circumstances I just found out about.

We were sitting at our little table, which was so crowded with serving dishes that there was no room for the Pilgrim-family centerpiece I made and brought home from work. I said what I was thankful for (my family, my job, and Eleanor herself).

Then she said, "I'm thankful that that jerk Teddy is out of my life!" And then she burst into tears!

It took awhile before she could tell me and then she said she's pregnant. I had of course noticed that she hadn't gotten her period lately, since September as it turns out, but when I shyly brought it up a few weeks back, she said it was just stress. But she went to the doctor this week and confirmed that she's two months along.

I thought of telling her I might've been around for the conception, but I decided to still not say anything, and it probably doesn't really matter. Other than it makes me feel even more involved in her dilemma.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, as she dried her eyes on a turkey-brown paper napkin.

"I don't know yet."

"Have you talked to Ted about it?"

"No, and I'm not going to."

"But he's the father! Even if you don't get back together, he should know about his child."

"Maybe someday, but right now I'm on my own. And I haven't decided whether I'm going to keep it."

"Oh." I didn't know if she was talking about adoption or abortion. My family never discussed things like this, so I didn't know what to say. Just being pregnant out of wedlock is such a taboo, although I know it's different here.

"I think what I'd most like is to keep the baby and stay single, but that would hardly be fair to you."

"Me?"

"Well, yes, you're my roommate. Although I suppose if I become a single mother, Mr. Roper will evict me."

"Then we'd find a more tolerant landlord."

She smiled a little. "You're a good, loyal friend, Janet, and I'm very thankful for you."

You can see why I can't just run off and leave her for a week or two during Christmas. She has decided not to tell her own family until she absolutely has to. And obviously I'm not going to say anything to mine. Well, I guess they would get suspicious if they called and heard a baby crying in the background, but that is still many months off.

Anyway, with Eleanor now eating for two, I guess the Thanksgiving leftovers won't last quite as long as I thought.


	9. December 1-24, 1976

Wednesday, December 1, 1976

I gave Eleanor the rent money today and we talked a little about what we'll do if she decides to keep the baby. As a freelance photographer, she could continue to work while pregnant and even as a single mother, without worrying about what her employer would think and do. Still, pregnancy and motherhood would obviously impact how much she could work, and it's not as if I'd be able to look after the baby much with my full-time job. (And I doubt Mr. Compton would want me to take the baby to work with me.)

I don't want to pressure Eleanor to make up her mind, because this is a difficult decision in every way.

She did say, "You might want to look into getting another roommate."

I frowned. "I don't want you to move out, and I'm used to living with you."

"Thank you, but I mean, if you wouldn't mind sharing your room, we could get a third roommate. Well, fourth, counting the baby."

"Oh." I've gotten used to having a bedroom to myself, but obviously Eleanor would need to put the baby in her room, if Mr. Roper doesn't evict her long before the birth.

"And if I do have to move out, well, you'd wouldn't have to look for a new roommate, because you'd already have one."

"Well, we wouldn't have to get someone right away. I mean, you're not going to cut back on work immediately, right?"

"Yeah, let's wait until next year to decide."

I assumed she meant about keeping the baby as well as getting another roommate. And next year is only a month away.

I know better than to suggest that she make up with Ted, although my Speedway upbringing tells me that that's what I should advise. Eleanor can be very stubborn and opinionated in some ways, although easy-going in others.

Anyway, we'll see how this month goes, and I really don't think I'll be going home for Christmas.

  


Thursday, December 23, 1976

Another three-day weekend coming up, since Christmas Eve and Day fall on a Friday and Saturday this year. Yes, we sold a lot of poinsettias and other seasonal plants this week.

And, yes, Eleanor has or is about to enter the second trimester. She told me she wants to keep the baby and I told her we'll work it out somehow. But tonight she wants to drive down to a bar in San Diego.

"Eleanor!" I exclaimed. "You shouldn't be drinking!"

"Relax, Janet, I've rented a car and obviously I wouldn't be driving drunk anyway."

"But why San Diego? We could just walk to the Beagle."

"Exactly. I want to get out of town for a little while and not see anyone we know."

I nodded, understanding that need to get away. So we'll be heading out in a bit, but I just wanted to jot this down, before deciding on my outfit.

  


Friday, December 24, 1976

Last night was a little crazy, but not that crazy. Eleanor drove to and from San Diego safely, although I was a little worried about other drivers being drunk. (It's probably good we didn't go tonight or tomorrow night.) She had a specific bar in mind, one that she and Patty, who's from San Diego, went to after they both turned twenty-one, although it turns out that the bar doesn't card anyone. Which, yeah, is good for me, since I still look like I'm nineteen at most. Not that I drank much, I never do, but I was worried I wouldn't even get in because they'd think my ID was fake.

The place was packed, not surprisingly for the start of a holiday weekend. I definitely wasn't the only person there who looked college-age, but there were people my age and older, maybe even as old as Mr. Compton.

Eleanor, who isn't showing yet, wore a red & green sweater dress that came down to her knees, with black tights and black ballet slippers. I ended up wearing one of my work outfits, but with a bell necklace and a little more skin showing.

We made our way over to the bar and were about to order when a man said, "Can I get you ladies anything?"

I turned and saw one of the most handsome men I've ever met. He was in a white Navy uniform but with mistletoe attached to his cap. He was tall, maybe six feet, with wavy brown hair and blue eyes. A good body and a boyish face. I was momentarily struck speechless.

Eleanor said, "Seven-Up please, thanks."

"Don't worry, I'm not trying to get you drunk and have my way with you."

"Good, since I'm three months pregnant."

"All righty then. And what can I get you, Brown Eyes?"

"A bloody Mary," I said, just loud enough to be heard over the jukebox playing "Afternoon Delight."

Eleanor stared at me as the sailor ordered our drinks. Then he looked at me and said, "So, Cutie, are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Pregnant."

"Definitely not."

"Would you like to be? Or at least try?"

I blushed but just shook my head. When I had my drink I took a sip and then "accidentally" spilled it all over his Navy whites. Eleanor laughed and then we headed out. The sailor yelled, "Hey!", so I turned and saw him slip on the wet floor, while most of his buddies, who'd been watching from the corner, laughed.

"Do you think he's OK?" I asked Eleanor in the doorway.

She shook her head and said, "Janet, he's just doing that to get a reaction out of you."

"Well, he succeeded."

"Hey, at least he's cuter than Larry, Mr. Compton, and everyone else who has hit on you in the last six months."

Sadly true.


	10. January 1-3, 1977

Saturday, January 1, 1977

It's hard to know what resolutions to make when someone else's pregnancy is the dominant theme of my life these days. The first trimester was dramatic of course, but I wasn't even aware of the situation for the first couple months, and Eleanor's symptoms were mild. It's the second trimester that is bringing morning sickness and everything else. And of course, by the end of it, there will be a baby, changing both our lives, mine less than hers, but more than I would've guessed my life would be changed when I decided to move out to California.

I haven't spent so much time around a pregnant woman since my mother was pregnant with Jenny, and I was only five going on six then, so I didn't really know what was going on, especially with my parents' inhibitions about discussing sex, or any "facts of life." Plus, Mommy was a mommy and mommies have babies. Eleanor is a modern, with-it young woman with a career, and it is weird to see her in this new role. 

But, yeah, it is the '70s and women can be more than one thing.

Her resolution, which she's going to take care of tomorrow, is to put up a "Room for Rent" sign at UCLA. We haven't said a word to the Ropers, although obviously they'll notice if a new girl moves in. (Well, I suppose we could pass her off as a visiting friend at first, but they'd be bound to get suspicious after the first couple weeks.)

I guess I should resolve to clean my room this weekend.

  


Monday, January 3, 1977

Wow, I think we might have a new roommate! I went to work, yes, after another three-day weekend. We're having a "white sale," in our case on white flowers. And I made decorations for the store: doilies and paper snowflakes and cotton-ball snowballs, just simple, cheap ways to suggest winter, although it's always like springtime in the Arcade Flower Shop. (I have mixed feelings about my first winter away from Indiana. I miss the beauty of snow, but I don't miss the cold.)

When I came home, Eleanor whispered, "I think we have a live one!"

Before I could ask what she meant, a beautiful blonde emerged from the bathroom. She was maybe an inch or two taller than me and Eleanor, but it was hard to tell because she had tan boots on. She was wearing tan slacks, a tan vest, and a white turtleneck sweater. Her hair was wavy and down to her shoulders. And she had a perfect body, curvy but not to Dolly-Parton level.

She came over and shook my hand. "Hi, it's Christmas."

"Um, not anymore," I said.

"Janet Wood, meet Christmas Snow."

I blinked. "Christmas Snow?" I've met some people with weird names since moving to L.A. (I swear one of the guys I went out with last Fall was named Cosmo Consciousness, which was the most interesting thing about him), but this was a new one.

"Yeah, yesterday it was my birthday."

"You hung one more year on the line?" I said but didn't sing, thinking of Paul Simon's "Have a Good Time."

She laughed, a surprisingly snorty laugh for such a pretty girl. "I should be depressed, my life's a mess, but I'm having a good time."

"How nice for you."

"Thanks, and since it's my birthday week, my parents let me come to L.A. for a couple days but they don't know why I wanted to."

I was afraid to ask about that, so I said, "Why Christmas Snow?"

"Well, I was born on the Ninth Day of Christmas. You know, nine ladies dancing?"

"Uh, right."

"And my last name is Snow, and my father's a big Bing Crosby fan. I'm lucky he didn't name me Whiffenpoof." She snorted again.

"Chrissy just got a job in L.A., as a secretary."

"Yeah, and I live in Fresno, which is three and a half hours away by car and I don't even own a car."

"That would be quite a commute."

"Yeah. I start work next week, and I won't get paid until two weeks later, but Eleanor says she's not in any hurry about the rent, and I'd love to move in because this is such a cute apartment and you both seem like really nice girls."

"Well, thank you."

"I'll get back to you in a couple days, Chrissy," Eleanor said. "It was good meeting you."

"You, too!" The girl looked around at the apartment as if it was the Garden of Eden but she was just leaving temporarily, not being banished. "Oh, and, Janet, I love all the plants! They look so green and healthy."

"Thank you." I decided not to mention my work discount.

She waved goodbye and headed out the door I'd left open. I closed it and leaned against it. "What was that?"

"The smartest dumb blonde in California."

I shook my head. "I don't think she'd dumb. Maybe dizzy."

"What would you think of her as a roommate?"

"Um, did anyone else come by?"

"No one that interesting."

"Did you tell her about your, um, situation?"

"You mean my 'condition'? No, I thought about it and then she mentioned her father is a Methodist minister."

"A minister?! What's he going to think about his sweet, innocent daughter living with an unwed mother?"

"Well, you're wholesome enough for both of us."

I grimaced. "Thanks."

She snort-laughed.

"God, that's going to get on my nerves!"

"Don't take the Lord's name in vain."

"Jeez— Gee whiz, Eleanor, a minister's daughter? I mean, not that I'm living a swinger's life, but I'm really going to have to watch myself around her."

"Well, maybe she's the kind of minister's daughter that goes crazy in the big city."

"Even better. I'll have to play big sister to her."

"Well, you're good at that."

"Yeah, I really did a great job with you."

"I'm not your responsibility, Janet, and Chrissy won't be either."

I'm not so sure about that, but I said, "Well, if we don't get anybody better by Wednesday, let's give the Fresno Kid a shot."


	11. January 15-30, 1977

Saturday, January 15, 1977

Well, Chrissy moved in today. Eleanor did call her a couple days after we met her, since there really wasn't anybody better. (I met some of them before and after work, while Eleanor stayed home all day, although she did work on developing some of her recent shots.) Eleanor told Chrissy it was fine to move in that weekend, but apparently she hadn't yet convinced her parents to let her move to L.A.

Chrissy's parents are pretty strict, not surprisingly I guess. And I can relate, even though my father isn't a minister and my home is a lot further away than Fresno. Finally, her parents agreed to drive her, and her belongings, down this weekend but they reserved the right to take her back to Fresno if her potential roommates and apartment didn't meet their approval.

Obviously, I was nervous. I mean, yes, I am pretty wholesome, but wholesome enough? Eleanor, in contrast, despite being almost four months pregnant, was more laidback.

"If they don't like us, they don't like us. I can't live my life trying to get everyone's approval."

Nonetheless, she wore a loose-fitting smock that hid the fact that she's starting to show a bit. We knew that if Chrissy did move in, we couldn't hide Eleanor's condition forever, but we didn't want to complicate things on the first day. And, yes, we will have to tell Chrissy at some point, and leave it to her to explain how to break that to her parents.

Reverend and Mrs. Snow did seem to like us and the apartment. They're at least letting Chrissy stay for the next few months, but her mother said, "You know you're always welcome to come home, Dear."

The Ropers noticed us and the Snows lugging boxes upstairs, so then Eleanor had to admit that we're letting a third girl move in. I could see Mr. Roper wanted to raise the rent but was too intimidated by Chrissy's father, who has a very commanding voice. I wouldn't put it past him to try a rent increase later, especially once he finds out about Eleanor's baby. As for Mrs. Roper, I could see she can't wait to live vicariously through a beautiful girl like Chrissy. (She's always disappointed that I have nothing to report about my love life, and Eleanor understandably hasn't given her any Ted-related details.)

Eleanor and I bought a bed and other furniture for Chrissy last weekend and managed to sneak it upstairs without the Ropers noticing. Chrissy will sleep closer to the door, while I'm by the window. Yes, it's going to be strange sharing a bedroom again, but hopefully Chrissy doesn't snore or sleep-walk or anything.

I have thought about how to deal with you. Not that I update on a daily basis (despite my initial ambition), but obviously I'm going to have fewer moments on my own at home. I'm sure she'll respect my privacy enough to not go snooping around (unlike my sister Jenny, or my mother), but she might be understandably curious if she sees I keep a diary. And obviously I'm going to be writing about her sometimes. I think from this point on, I'll write on Sunday mornings while she's at church. My own attendance is sporadic, but I heard her promise her parents she'll go to the local Methodist church every week. At that, I probably still won't write every week, unless life with Chrissy ends up being more eventful than I expect. (Not that it's been dull with just Eleanor, but it's not like something new and different happens every week.)

  


Sunday, January 30, 1977

I'll admit it is nice splitting the rent (and utilities) even further, although we're just charging Chrissy for half of January of course. But from February onward, I'll pay one third instead of one half. I suppose you could argue that Eleanor should pay more than one third, since she has a bedroom to herself, and in less than five months she'll be moving a relative in, but it's going to be tough enough for her as a single mother without a regular income.

And Chrissy agrees with me. Yes, she knows now. It came up because she got her period a little early, probably from the stress of moving and starting a new job, and all the other recent upheaval in her life, even if she's chosen most of it, rather than continue to lead a quiet life in Fresno. Anyway, she shyly asked me for "feminine sanitary products," and after I loaned her some and promised to buy more next time I go grocery shopping, we got on the topic of periods syncing up. I told her about how June and I, and eventually Jenny, got ours at the same time.

"I wish I had a sister," Chrissy said. "You and Eleanor are lucky to have two each. And brothers."

"It's good and bad, but mostly good."

"I'm an only child, which puts even more pressure on me as a minister's daughter."

"I can imagine."

"I do have a cousin who's sort of like a kid sister, but she's six years younger, and she lives with her parents, so it's not really the same thing, and we've never talked about our monthly visitors."

"Yeah, my family isn't too open about some things, but Eleanor is, and our cycles fell into a pattern early on."

"So soon it'll be three of us in sync."

"Um, well, Eleanor doesn't get a period anymore."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Does she have medical issues?"

"Sort of. Um, she's pregnant."

"But she doesn't even have a boyfriend!"

"She did four months ago."

"Oh!"

"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before."

She shook her head. "I understand. I'm a minister's daughter from Fresno. But poor Eleanor! Pregnant and abandoned."

I thought about telling her the truth, that Ted doesn't even know he's going to be a father and the break-up was mutual, but I decided to leave that for Eleanor, if she wants to tell her. Even if it's Eleanor's choice to deal with her pregnancy the way she has, that doesn't mean it's going to be easy. I did say, "Just so you know, she's going to keep the baby and raise it here, unless Mr. Roper decides to evict her."

"If he does, the three of us and the baby will just have to find someplace else."

I thought that was wonderful of her, although I don't know if she can be that brave if and when her parents find out. She has promised that she'll discourage them from visiting until after Eleanor has the baby, but she can't keep them away, or ignorant of the situation, forever of course.


	12. February 13-27, 1977

Sunday, February 13, 1977

Chrissy and I agreed to meet Eleanor at the Regal Beagle after work on Friday. Eleanor of course isn't drinking, but she didn't feel like cooking that night, and we hadn't actually taken Chrissy there yet. So we gave her directions in the morning, not that it's hard to find.

Eleanor was already at our usual table, in the middle of the room, when I arrived. We both ordered and talked about our days, wondering if Chrissy had somehow gotten lost or had to stay after to type a last-minute letter or something.

We had just started to eat when I heard Larry say, "Whoa, Eleanor, you might want to cut back on eating like a pig! You're starting to look like one."

We hadn't seen Larry in two or three months and apparently he'd gotten more obnoxious in the meantime. Before either of us could call him a sexist pig, Chrissy, who had just shown up behind him, said, "I don't know who you are, Mister, but Eleanor is my friend and I think she looks radiant!"

He turned and then stared, presumably because Chrissy is so gorgeous. "Well, well, who do we have here?"

"It's Christmas, but I want you to apologize to Eleanor."

Larry looked confused but he turned to Eleanor again and said, "I'm sorry, Eleanor. You still look great with the extra weight."

Now Eleanor was amused, as she said, "Well, thank you, Larry."

"And she can't help eating for two right now."

Now Larry stared at Eleanor. "You're, you're, you're...?"

"Pregnant," Eleanor said.

"It's not mine! Sorry, reflex. Um, congratulations?"

"Thank you."

"Pregnant," he murmured and wandered out in a daze.

"Who was that?" Chrissy understandably asked as she sat down.

"Larry Dallas," I said.

"A very ineligible bachelor," Eleanor added.

"He looks like a car salesman," Chrissy observed, making us both laugh. It's true, this time Larry was wearing a very loud plaid jacket and matching slacks, with a shirt and tie that didn't match anything. Oh, and shiny white shoes.

Chrissy did get some other male attention while we were at the Beagle, but nothing as obnoxious as Larry's. What's interesting about her, well, one of the interesting things, is that, unlike a lot of beautiful blondes, especially in L.A., she has no vanity and just acts like she's as average-looking as I am. As Eleanor says, "I don't think I could stand it if Chrissy knew how gorgeous she is."

Chrissy likes the Beagle, including the food, but she prefers Eleanor's cooking, better than her mother's, she claims. I have to agree, although I'd never tell my mom of course. But then, there's a lot I'm not telling my mom.

  


February 27, 1977

The Ropers know Eleanor is pregnant! She is five months along and she promised me to say something in the next month, before she reaches the third trimester, but she understandably hasn't been in any hurry. And guess who told them? Our new neighbor, Larry Dallas. He just moved in upstairs yesterday and he mentioned that he knows us. And, yes, he mentioned Eleanor's pregnancy, although it sounds like he thought the Ropers already knew.

The Ropers came upstairs, probably as soon as Larry left, and Chrissy answered the door when Mr. Roper knocked, loudly.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Roper," she said cheerfully. (She's generally friendly. She probably would've shaken Larry's hand if he hadn't offended her right before they met.)

"So you thought you could hide a baby from me!"

"I'm not hiding anything," she said, although she is hiding the pregnancy from her parents.

"Not you, her!" He pointed at Eleanor, who was sitting on the couch, sorting through her latest shots. (I was standing in the kitchen doorway, eating Valentine's candy that a recent date brought Chrissy and that she's sharing with us, the chocolate, not the guy.)

"Now, Mr. Roper," Eleanor said, more calmly than I could've managed, "don't get excited."

"Let him get excited," Mrs. Roper said. "It doesn't happen that often."

Mr. Roper gave her an annoyed look and then marched over to the sofa to wave his finger accusingly in Eleanor's face. "Is it true that you're an unwed mother?"

"Well, I'm unwed, but I won't be a mother for another four months."

Mr. Roper stared in shock, as if he'd hoped it was just a rumor. Mrs. Roper raced over, sat next to Eleanor on the couch, and gave her a big hug. "Oh, Sweetie, you're going to be a wonderful mother! And I'll do everything I can to help."

"Helen, you're undermining my authority."

"Stanley, you can't evict this poor girl and her baby! It's not her fault she was seduced and abandoned."

"I wasn't exactly...."

"Her boyfriend's never coming back," I said, coming into the living room and setting down the candy box on the coffee table, careful not to put it too close to Eleanor's photos. "So she's going to bravely raise their child, with my help."

"And mine," Chrissy said, joining us.

"Sisterhood united to raise the next generation!" Eleanor cried.

"What is this, some sort of women's lib cell?" Mr. Roper said, backing away.

"Right on!" Mrs. Roper exclaimed.

"Or I could give my baby up for adoption."

"Stanley and I could raise it!"

He shook his head. "OK, you can stay, but only if you keep paying the rent on time. And I don't want to be kept up all night by the baby crying."

"I'll let him know when he gets here."

"Come on, Helen, it's lunchtime."

She loudly whispered, "Eleanor, I want all the details later."

After the Ropers left, Chrissy said, "This is all my fault."

"You weren't even here in September."

"No, Eleanor, I mean I shouldn't have said anything to Larry." We didn't yet know he was our new neighbor (he dropped by a couple hours later, to "borrow sugar or anything else sweet we had to offer"), but "dumb blonde" or not, she'd somehow figured out who told the Ropers.

"It's fine, Chrissy. The Ropers would've found out soon anyway. And I appreciate you both sticking up for me."

The three of us shared a hug on the couch and then we polished off the rest of Chrissy's candy.


	13. March 13 to April 24, 1977

Sunday, March 13, 1977

Maybe because Eleanor is pregnant or maybe because Chrissy and I share a room, Chrissy confides in me rather than Eleanor about her love life. (We've warned her not to tell the Ropers anything.) She's a virgin but she loves to make out. As she puts it, she "has a very low melting point." And she has gone on a lot of dates since she moved to L.A. less than two months ago. It's a little overwhelming for her, since she's out of the parental eye but still influenced by both parents.

Recently, she dated a guy who told her, "I want you for a friend." She was fine with this and actually found it refreshing that a guy just wanted a platonic relationship. "Then he introduced me to his friend."

I've warned her that she has to be careful with men, especially in Los Angeles, but she's so sweet and trusting, too naive for her own good. In a different way than Eleanor, she brings out my sisterly protective instinct, but there's only so much I can do. And they are both grown women.

  


Sunday, March 20, 1977

While Valentine's Day last month made things very busy at work, Mr. Compton says that Springtime is our busiest season, which makes sense. Again, I miss the seasons, although Eleanor says, "Spring means the smog is rainy."

The Arcade Flower Shop is now a chain of a half dozen stores. When I started, Mr. Compton just had two that he split his time between, but he's made some successful investments, so he's expanded the business and hired managers. I kind of hoped he'd pick me for the Santa Monica store, but it is my first job in the field, and I think he still thinks of me as a college girl. I try to tell myself that it's pure coincidence that all the managers he's hired are men. I know, it's not the most macho profession, so you'd think being a woman would give me an edge, but not with Mr. Compton. I'm not crazy about my new manager, Mr. Murphy, since he's lazy and condescending, but at least he isn't there all the time.

It's been about nine months since I moved to California, enough time to have a baby, or at least enough to move in with a girl who's about to enter her third trimester. She's sleeping more now and working less, but we're all right financially, especially with Chrissy here. Still, yeah, the raise I would've got as manager would've been nice.

  


Sunday, March 27, 1977

Larry has ended up being less of a nuisance than we expected in his first month as a neighbor. Instead, there's a guy who hits on us in much weirder ways. His name is Arthur, but we call him Crazy Arthur. He told Eleanor, "I've never had sex with a pregnant woman, but I'd like to try," and he dropped by the flower shop and asked me if I "wanted to get fertilized."

But when he invited Chrissy in the laundry room to get into the dryer with him and "go for a spin," he didn't realize that Mrs. Roper was standing in the doorway. When she realized Chrissy wasn't interested, she told her husband, who's evicting Arthur. Chrissy actually feels sorry for Arthur. That's how soft-hearted she is. Eleanor thinks it's a little extreme, and she says we just needed to discourage him more, although that doesn't really work with Larry, does it? And I'm left worrying that this won't protect me from Arthur showing up at my workplace again, although I guess I could ask Mr. Murphy's help if Arthur gets too out of line.

  


Sunday, April 10, 1977

We haven't really taken Chrissy anywhere since she moved in, except the beach a couple times. And her dates mostly take her to restaurants and movies. She really wanted to go to Disneyland, because she hadn't gone since she was a little kid. So we went yesterday, with Chrissy's latest guy, Geoffrey. Eleanor keeps calling him "Goofy" behind Chrissy's back, since he's tall and skinny with big ears and a big nose. Plus, he's not too bright and he has a goofy laugh that makes Chrissy's snorting seem like bells in comparison.

Since Eleanor is in her seventh month, she avoided the more active rides and attractions, like the Swiss Family Robinson Treehouse and Tom Sawyer's Island. I kept her company on the slower-paced stuff, like the train, although of course Chrissy and Geoffrey had to go on It's a Small World. Now I can't get that darn song out of my head. Or Geoffrey's laugh.

Still, yes, it was fun and we'll have to go back when the baby is old enough to appreciate the park.

  


Sunday, April 24, 1977

Oh, wow, we all went to a Rolling Stones concert!! Eleanor got tickets at a bargain price from someone she knows in the music industry, from a photo shoot last spring. We went Friday night and have still barely recovered. Chrissy and I, with our strict parents, never dreamed of going to a rock concert before. Eleanor has been to some, especially since moving to L.A., but never the Stones. We're all fans, although Chrissy would never admit that to her parents, and I actually prefer Stevie Wonder, especially his _Innervisions_ , which I played all the time my sophomore year of college. I miss dancing to "Higher Ground" with little Jenny, who was thirteen, although of course I had fun dancing with my roommates on Friday.

Yes, Eleanor danced, even though she's about two months away from childbirth.

I did suggest we not go and just resell the tickets. "We can catch them next time they're in town."

"Janet, I am not scalping these tickets! Besides, next time they're in town, I'll be stuck at home with a baby."

"Well, OK, but don't do anything too crazy."

"It's a Stones concert. What could happen?"

I decided not to mention Altamont. And hopefully Inglewood would be milder.

No, we didn't stab anyone, or do drugs or become groupies, although I'm sure Jonah will tease me about that when he hears. (Not that he knows Eleanor is pregnant of course.) But Eleanor actually passed out after touching the arm of a girl who had just reached onstage and touched Mick Jagger's toe! Considering her condition, we were very worried. With the help of a couple cute guys that Chrissy easily charmed, we carried Eleanor to the first aid tent. The nurse said it was probably the crowding as well as her pregnancy that added to her swoon, although Eleanor insists it was the power of Mick.

Yes, she's fine, but I think this had better be our last expedition until she safely has the baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Rolling Stones toured America in '75 and '78 but not '77. They were in Inglewood the week of July 9-13, 1975. In canon, we don't know when Chrissy moved in with Janet and Eleanor, but she does say (in the "Three's Christmas" episode) that the 1977 Christmas was her first away from home, which is why I've had her move in in January of that year. The '78 tour is obviously too late, since Jack was around by then, but '75 feels too early for Chrissy having left home. So I've just changed the tour for this ficverse.


	14. May 8-22, 1977

Sunday, May 8, 1977

Eleanor's parents are in town! They showed up on Friday evening and I answered the door.

"Hi, is Eleanor home?" asked a woman who had Eleanor's face with a few wrinkles.

"Uh, no, she went to the grocery store." She was going to make dinner when she realized she was out of some ingredients. Chrissy and I both offered to go, but Eleanor likes to choose her own fresh vegetables.

"Well, is Patty around?" asked a man whose red hair is starting to go gray.

"Uh, no, Patty moved out and I'm Eleanor's roommate now." Chrissy entered from the bathroom. "Well, one of them."

"Herb, she's got new roommates," the woman said to the man.

Chrissy came over to join us. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Garvey. It's Christmas." (I really need to break her of the habit of introducing herself that way.)

Then, as Mr. Garvey was confusedly shaking the hand Chrissy offered, Eleanor returned with a bag of groceries. "Well, I went to the corner market, since even though their produce isn't great, it's a shorter walk and I'm feeling a little—" She broke off at the sight of her parents.

"Pregnant," her mother said flatly.

"Norrie, I think we have a lot to catch up on," her father observed.

Chrissy and I offered to leave (I figured we could eat at the Beagle), but Eleanor insisted we all have dinner together. So I got to hear the whole conversation she had with her parents, including about how they admired her independence but they didn't like being shut out of the major events of her life.

"When were you planning to tell us we're going to be grandparents?" her mother asked.

"Um, after the baby is born, in a month and a half. I didn't want you to make a fuss."

Her father shook his head but surprised me by saying, "Didn't we raise you to use birth control? You have so much potential, Norrie, but you keep wasting it."

"Dad, I'm still going to do photography but I want this baby, even if the circumstances aren't ideal. Janet and Chrissy are great roommates and they're going to help."

"You seem like nice girls," Mrs. Garvey said, passing me the salt before I could ask for it, "but are you going to be around when the baby goes off to college?"

"I haven't really made plans as far as 1995," Chrissy said.

"We'll help as long and as much as we can," I promised.

"Definitely!" Chrissy chimed in.

"That's sweet of you, Janet, Chrissy, but, Norrie, I think you need to move back home."

"This is my home, Dad. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you two, but this is why I didn't. I know you and Mom want what's best for me, but you have to trust me to make my own decisions."

"But what about this Philips boy? Is he completely out of the picture?"

"Yes, Mom. He doesn't even know about the baby, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Speaking as a father, I think he has a right to know, whether or not you want to be with him."

"Yes, Ella, it's more fair to the child, too."

"If he ever shows up again, he can do the math, but I'm not going looking for him."

It went on like this all through and after dinner. Her parents agreed to butt out if she'll keep them in the loop from now on, and if she'll take a check for $1000 as a gift for the baby.

I can't imagine my parents, or Chrissy's, reacting at all like the Garveys. As it was, her mother said, "Remember, you can always move back in with us if you ever need to," as they were leaving.

  


Sunday, May 15, 1977

I think I'm going to be short on the rent money this month, so I've reluctantly taken the cameo that Nonna gave me for graduation last year to the pawn shop. I'll try to get it out of hock when I can, but that might be awhile, since it'll cost $50, and I don't know when I can save that much, especially since I'll probably be buying the baby gifts before and after it's born. Anyway, I kept the chain, which isn't worth as much and is still a way to remember her. Obviously, I'm not going to tell my family about it.

  


Sunday, May 22, 1977

On Friday, Eleanor wasn't home when Chrissy and I got back from work. We knew she had a doctor's appointment late in the afternoon and she'd probably be too tired to cook when she returned. I promised to order and pay for a pizza.

Chrissy came home while I was paying bills. After hellos, she asked, "Is it here yet?"

I didn't have to ask what "it" was. "It should be another ten or fifteen minutes, and Eleanor's not even back yet."

Chrissy's expressive face showed her hunger and disappointment, and then it lit up when someone knocked. I'd called only five minutes ago, so it was unlikely to be the delivery guy, but I figured it was would distract Chrissy while we waited.

I listened but didn't look as she eagerly went to the door and threw it open. Then she demanded, "Where is it?"

"Uh, I think I might have the wrong apartment."

I turned my head at the sound of a familiar voice but I didn't recognize the clean-shaven face and short hair on top of the burly body. "Ted?"

He looked at me in relief and came over to the couch. "Hey, Janet." Then he glanced over at Chrissy and frowned. "Uh, did Eleanor move out?"

"No, we just took in another roommate. That's Chrissy Snow. Chrissy, meet Ted Philips, Eleanor's old, um, friend."

Chrissy came over and shook Ted's hand. "It's nice to meet you. Eleanor will be back soon from the doc—"

"The dockyard," I jumped in. "She's shooting some photos there."

They both looked puzzled, he at Eleanor's choice of subject, since she mostly does portraits, and she at my lie. But he must've concluded that Eleanor's focus as a photographer, no pun intended, had shifted over the last several months. And Chrissy must've figured out that I, for some reason, didn't want this man to know about Eleanor's pregnancy just yet.

Then Eleanor appeared in the open doorway, definitely looking eight months pregnant. "Well, it looks like my weight gain is average, but I plan to eat half the pizza and then go for— Teddy!"

"Eleanor!" he gasped.

Then the pizza delivery guy showed up. I paid him but dragged Chrissy to the Beagle. I figured if Eleanor didn't want us to go, she'd say something, but she and Ted just stood there staring at each other. And as I explained to Chrissy at the pub, this was not like when Eleanor's folks showed up a couple weeks ago.

"Us being there would not smoothe things over for her. And they really do need to talk things over, whatever they decide to do."

"I hope they work things out." I didn't know if she was speaking as a minister's daughter or as a romantic, which she is, despite her love of makeouts. (In fact, I think she's as emotionally susceptible as she is physically, hoping each guy will be The One. I just hope that the guys I date won't be boring or obnoxious.)

She suggested we go see a movie after dinner, to give Eleanor more time alone with Ted, but I knew that things might be going badly. Chrissy hasn't seen them argue (she didn't even know Ted's name before that evening), but I knew their stormy history. And now that Eleanor is very pregnant with his child, and never bothered to tell him, they have even more to argue about. Chrissy probably imagined Ted proposing spontaneously and earnestly, Eleanor accepting with tears of joy. I pictured pizza and possibly blood splattered on the walls.

I unlocked and opened the now locked door cautiously when we returned. It was also possible Ted and Eleanor might be making out on the couch.

Eleanor was on the couch alone, eating the last slice of pizza. "Hey, guys, how was the Beagle?"

"The usual," I said, shutting the door. "Uh, how was it here?"

She rolled her eyes. "The usual."

"Where's Teddy?" Chrissy asked.

"Back at his hotel."

As we all sat on the couch, Eleanor explained that Ted now has a well-paid government job in Sacramento. He gets a month-long vacation and he decided to spend it in L.A. He's looking up old friends, including her, although they didn't exactly part on friendly terms. He had no idea she was pregnant, and now he wants to reconcile. She told him she needs time to think it over.

Chrissy is optimistic but I don't know what to think. Eleanor and Ted used to fight so much, but he's obviously changed. And she's going to be a mother and that will change her. Even if they decide to not be a couple again, I hope that Ted will be as involved a father as he can be, living six hours away.

Anyway, they have about a month to work things out, and yes, Eleanor might have the baby in the meantime.


	15. May 29 to June 12, 1977

Sunday, May 29, 1977

Ted is wooing Eleanor, who is slowly thawing. If it were Chrissy, with her low melting point, they'd be married by now. Eleanor is just at the point where she no longer hates Teddy's guts. And she's agreed that he'll be able to see the baby, although I don't think she's ready to have him accompany her to the maternity ward. (We'll call a cab. We've been saving up for that.)

  


Sunday, June 5, 1977 

Well, Eleanor has agreed to marry Ted. I have mixed feelings about it. Yes, I know they love each other and they're having a child together, but is that enough? More selfishly, I will miss Eleanor's humor, wisdom, warmth, honesty, bravery, and, OK, cooking.

Chrissy and I have agreed to get another roommate, hopefully by the end of the month. It'll be tough to find another girl who fits in as well with both of us, but we've got our fingers crossed. And, yes, hopefully it'll be someone who can cook, because Chrissy is as bad at it as I am, although her mother tried to teach her.

We had a little engagement/ baby shower party for Eleanor last night. It got a little noisy, so Mr. Roper came up to complain. He is happy that Ted is "doing the decent thing" though, and happy that Eleanor has paid up for June.

The wedding will be on Friday the 17th, which, yes, is cutting it close, since Eleanor is due around the 21st. But it's the soonest they could get everything lined up. Chrissy offered to ask her father to perform the ceremony, but Eleanor politely said no. As it is, Chrissy's parents and mine still have no idea that Eleanor got pregnant out of wedlock, and we'd like to keep it that way.

  


Sunday, June 12, 1977 

Things are pretty frantic, getting ready for Eleanor's wedding and reception, while also working overtime as Arcade shifts from our Spring to Summer line of flowers. (OK, not a huge difference, but tell Mr. Compton that.) I still found time to get a haircut last week, both to look nice for the wedding photos (Eleanor is having a former classmate take them, although she wishes she could) and to deal with the hot weather. It's a completely new look for me, a straight but full long bob, more sophisticated than I'm used to but also super practical. But I'm as reluctant to tell my folks about it as I am about Eleanor's personal life, because I know they like their daughters to have long, "feminine" hair.

It's so strange to think that the next time I write, Eleanor will be gone, after living with her all this time. It has been quite a year. I doubt the next one will be as crazy and exciting, even living with Chrissy, but maybe that's a good thing.

Then again, who knows what the new roomie will be like?

  
  


THE END OF BOOK ONE


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